Moses

A hundred-twenty years the friend

Of God! Heart flaming to the end.

And in the crystal eyes a fire

From what he'd seen of God's Desire.

An unabated strength of soul

Had kept his mind and body whole.

O, how he longed to lift his rod

Once more and watch the arm of God

Slice Jordan like a liquid snake

And make the serpent's tail a lake

And lead the tribes dry through the slice

Back to the promised paradise!

Could God appoint a man to guide

His people while the warriors died,

To stand and suffer their distrust,

And when for golden calves they lust

To intercede with God and spare

For them annihilation there?

Could God assign an athlete this:

To run for others, then to miss

The prize? Would he require a maid

To bring to birth what God had laid

Within her womb and while she smiled

Forbid that she should have the child?

Atop Mount Pisgah Moses sat

And for a moment thought like that.

The Jordan slithered far below

And did its best to overthrow

His faith: "Where has your life been poured?

It doesn't pay to serve the Lord.

He fills your life with many a hurt

And in the end treats you like dirt."

Then Moses took up the attack

And all the truth he wrote came back:

"Ah, wicked river, stay your hand

'Tis you, not God, that stole the land

From my inheritance on earth.

Had I not doubted his grand worth

'Tis I, not Joshua, who'd break

Your twisted back and gladly make

Your trail a bridge to paradise.

And do you think that your advice

For me has any weight as though

For any real estate I'd throw

Away my God? Think you, O fool,

That all my life's a vestibule

To that?" And Moses waved his hand

The full length of the promised land.

"Don't you recall that I have seen

The glory of the Lord? Between

Me and my hope the day I die

Lies not the river but the sky."

And then, his eyes still crystal bright,

Old Moses vanished in the Light.

God grant that we the same might see

As we light advent candle three.